Author: admin

It is quite unlikely that this Virginia-baked ham really came from Virginia, and doubtful the applewood smoked bacon was smoked over actual apple wood. Also, dubious that these farm fresh eggs were laid by cheerful chickens...

Old friends are a little older now and a few have disappeared, but a porch is still a porch, a glass of wine a glass of wine, and maybe a cigar after the storm leaves us with another sunset as we listen to the little rain after...

Those dangerous, leather-creaking brutes— Cheyenne cops—growled, grinded down 16th Street, led the motorcade past my parents’ restaurant supply store where I watched the tarp-covered ICBMs, half a block long, hauled on flatbeds...

There’s no thought of permanence no effort toward refurbishment of preservation or restoration. Every generation is bent on leaving no trace of the one before. They allow only tender memories to lodge in fading minds. The house...

They play the children’s game of let’s pretend full of wily misdirection. Flashy props and stage effects conjure the illusions, but slight of hand and calculated movement create our amazement. Their skill is ancient, passed down...

Five minutes is all students get to change classes, stop at their lockers, and use the restrooms. It’s enough time for me to take a few swallows of cold coffee, say hello to a couple of students, and write a pass for Alicia who...

Lisa shows up a half hour before the first bell. She has that “going to the dentist” look on her face like an actor who wishes they weren’t in this play. I try to put her at ease, “What can I do for you?” Lisa tells me she’s...

A seventh-grade boy fires bb’s from a sling shot into the mulling crowd of students waiting for their buses. He doesn’t care who he hits, as long as he causes a vicious sting. Maybe he’s replaying a video game in his head, or...

While reading Lois Lowery’s The Giver, she describes a battle, so I stop the class to pose the question, “What war is the author describing? Bruce raises his hand, “The Revolutionary War.” I say, “No, let’s look for context...

I, too, have seen the map, scanned east to west, found borders there, and wondered if an umlaut alone can sunder us into tribes. In Kherson Oblast, over one thousand one hundred days, geese, ducks, and the rest hunted along its...

“Try out your Spanish,” Mother says as we get under way. Father leans back; the passengers stare ahead. I furrow my brow to speed our bus past her request: soon enough we’re rattling across desert. The trip is Mother’s wish, her...